


Drunk Bickering

by sadieHD



Series: Rossi's Camera Roll [2]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Crack, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Excessive Drinking, Fluff, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12103818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadieHD/pseuds/sadieHD
Summary: After a particularly brutal case, Rossi, Hotch and Prentiss find themselves getting shitfaced in the Unit Chief's office. Do you really think Rossi's gonna pass up a photo op?





	Drunk Bickering

**Author's Note:**

> [here's the reference pic](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/8b/e3/5f/8be35f1c6f4766d17b4db9fbe6b21658--criminal-minds-cast-criminal-minds-prentiss.jpg)

“More shots?! If we get caught, we’re in as much trouble as it is! We can’t just stumble around the building slobbering drunk for Strauss to find us!”

“It’s not my fault you can’t hold your liquor! If she runs into us, it’s not going to be me who can’t walk straight! Besides, you didn’t exactly said no when we brought the bottles!”

“Who said I can’t hold my liquor? I’ve been matching you drop for drop!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t decipher that one with all that slurring. Can you slow down? Maybe it’ll give you time to actually enunciate.”

“Are you kidding me? We’re going to need a gallon of vinegar to get rid of all the tequila you’ve spilled. Maybe let someone who actually has steady hands pour the drinks, huh?”

Rossi chuckled at the two bickering agents. Emily and Rossi had decided to stop by Hotch before joining the rest of the team at their usual bar, but had found the intimate setting of the Unit Chief’s office to be more inviting than an overcrowded bar, especially after the case they’d just wrapped up. Emily and Hotch had been arguing since before they sat down, though about what Rossi was still uncertain. Honestly, they were more children than members of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Nonetheless, he gave them the benefit of the doubt since the particularly brutal case had left them all short tempered. Rossi choose to find amusement in their banter. “Alright, kids, play nice.”

Emily smiled and raised her hands innocently, stepping back from the Unit Chief. “Hey, he’s pouring more alcohol. That’s all I wanted.”

Hotch glanced up from where he was studiously refilling the trio’s glasses at his desk. “Whatever,” he scoffed. He grimaced down at the empty bottle. “We’re out of tequila,” he announced mournfully, leaning on his desk. Rossi was surprised the three of them were still standing. Though to be fair, Emily and Rossi were both leaning heavily on chairs with Hotch all but sitting on his desk. 

“Thank heavens!” Rossi cried, reaching for the whiskey. “Now we can move onto the good stuff!”

Emily pouted. “Whiskey shots aren’t nearly as fun as tequila shots.”

“Whiskey isn’t for shots, dear. Besides, tequila shots aren’t nearly as pleasant without lime and salt,” Rossi said, pouring the remains of his tequila into Emily’s glass. Emily snatched Hotch’s glass and poured the rest of his into her glass as well. Hotch’s death glare softened when she unsteadily poured half of the liquid into his glass as equally as she could, but he still eyed her warily as they both polished off the contents.

“Whiskey isn’t as good as vodka, either,” Hotch mumbled into his now empty glass. Emily rubbed his shoulder sympathetically; she was more touchy when tipsy, and Hotch was more accepting.

“We ran out of vodka ages ago, Aaron,” Rossi reminded patiently, trying not to laugh openly at the Unit Chief’s petulant look.

Emily had no such reservations, laughing heartily at his dismayed expression without even the decency to sober up at his scowl. “What are you laughing at, agent?” he snapped.

“You, duh,” she snorted, unfazed. Rossi hummed in admiration for the brave woman. She was one of the few people he knew who could withstand the famous Hotch Glare without a scratch, drunk or sober.

“Laugh all you want, but this whiskey bottle is only half full. A couple more glasses eah before we’re out for good.”

That stopped both her and Rossi cold. No… alcohol? “Then what?” she asked almost desperately.

Hotch frowned, realizing he would also be hurt in this situation. “Dunno,” he mumbled into his glass. He blinked. How his glass had been emptied, refilled, and emptied again was beyond him.

“Store?” Rossi offered.

“Far!” Emily whined, pulling on Hotch’s arm, who nodded vigourously in agreement. Even drunk none of them were quite ready for the congested, stuffy air of a bar on a Saturday night. Not even for alcohol.

Rossi winced and looked out into the bullpen. “Do you think Anderson would tell if we asked him to go fetch us something?”

Emily snorted again, but Hotch seemed to be considering it. “No,” he decided at last, “He’d probably end up getting something gross, like rum.” Emily scrunched up her face. The last time the three of them had thought rum was a good idea, they’d spent the night throwing up in the bathroom and woke up cuddling in the corner the next morning.

“Come on, guys. We’re big boys and girls. We can go to the store ourselves,” Emily said at last.

Hotch sighed. “Fine,” he grumbled, hopping off his desk in a completely dignified manner appropriate for the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Emily was struggling to get both arms through the sleeves of her jacket while remaining upright, but Hotch, true to his word, had managed to pull on his coat without trouble. He helped his coworker, who practically hissed at the aid, but eventually submitted to assistance.

“Do you think Anderson could drive us at least?” The two agents took a moment from getting ready to stare at the older man. Rossi gulped. “Okay, cool, gotcha, cool, cool.”

Hotch and Emily looked at each other, bonding in a moment of shared annoyance at their friend’s stupidity. Rossi, despite being ever so slightly humiliated, found the moment endearing. “Let’s take a picture!” he said.

Hotch rolled his eyes and groaned, but he couldn’t help but smile as Rossi leaned his head on his shoulder. “Pretty pretty please?” the senior agent begged. Emily didn’t wait for a response before snaking her arm around Hotch’s waist, pretending to gasp in shock as he returned the favor. “Say cheese!” The three turned to face the camera just long enough for Rossi to take a nice photo.

The trio untangled as quickly as they had linked.

“I’ll call a cab,” Hotch said. If he was embarrassed by the photo, he didn’t let on. Rossi realized with no small amount of satisfaction that it was unlikely that any of them would remember he even took it unless they saw it.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Emily said, reaching for his phone. “There’s no way anyone can understand you right now.”

“You can understand me!” He held the phone above his head.

“Sometimes I wish I couldn’t,” she mumbled, lunging at his arm. “Let me do it!”

“Only if you can dial it yourself.”

“Fuck you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to come up with a situation where they took this picture sober but I just couldn’t do it. We all have our limitations, I suppose. Also yeah, just fyi they are all Best Friends and there’s nothin you can fuckign do about it. P.S. YES I know it’s technically TG taking the picture but just pretend you can’t see his arm, k?


End file.
